Six Little Indians
by NorthShadow
Summary: A dinner party goes awry when the host is murdered and the six guests realise there is a murderer amongst them. Will the six of them survive the night? FULL SUMMARY INSIDE. Please don't review saying that I ripped off other stories: this was fabricated myself after watching 'Clue', I have not ripped anyone off. There are many of this type of fic around, not just from me. Enjoy!
1. Summary

**Six Little Indians**

**Summary:**

In a secluded manor house in the heart of the English countryside, a dinner party is taking place. The six guests all have something in common other than school: they are being blackmailed by the same person for various reasons that would destroy their lives and careers if exposed. To make a bad situation worse, when their host ends up dead, a panic sets in as it becomes apparent there is a killer amongst them. Will any of them make it out alive and presumed innocent?

Fairly canonical, in the sense of marriages and children, but there are people alive that shouldn't be in canon etc. Hinted Hermione/Fred.

Inspiration taken from watching 'Clue' too many times and being a fan of the 'whodunnit' mysteries. Plus, exam stress tends to bring out plot bunnies. This was written over the course of two days, in breaks for revision and it hasn't been proofread so excuse any grammar issues, I am usually a grammar Nazi.

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY CHARACTERS AFFILIATED WITH THE HARRY POTTER FRANCHISE; THAT BELONGS TO JK ROWLING. NOR DO I OWN CLUEDO/CLUE (apart from a copy of the board game haha); THAT BELONGS TO HASBRO/WADDINGTONS.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

* * *

Pulling the neatly folded letter from her clutch bag, Hermione studied the handwriting carefully. It was black ink, loopy script but unfamiliar to hr. She was an intelligent young woman of thirty-two who was usually unlikely to answer an anonymous call, but the letter had intrigued her. She had no idea as to whom the manor house belonged to, or who sent the letter, but she felt oddly obliged to attend the dinner party. So, dressed in a simple black cocktail dress and mid heels, she kissed her husband and children goodbye and left for the train station, the locomotive slicing its way through the countryside. It had struck her as odd, that her anonymous host should provide her with train tickets, but she wasn't too bothered.

Glancing around the packed carriage, she wondered if there was anybody else attending with whom she was acquainted. Unfolding the letter again, she looked down at it, a slight frown of confusion lining her face. Now she came to really think about it, she was a little confused as to why someone would want to invite her and only her to an event; she had no friends that weren't friendly with Ron.

'Dear Mrs Weasley,' it said in its black cursive script. 'I have the pleasure of inviting you for dinner and drinks on the first Saturday of the month, starting at seven thirty. Your train ticket is provided and you will be met by transport upon your arrival at the station. I eagerly await your arrival.' There was no signature.

Folding the letter, Hermione slipped it back into her bag and leant her head back, careful to ensure her bun would not be squashed. She slowly drifted off as the sky darkened and the train rushed her deeper and deeper into the countryside.

* * *

A carriage away, Ginny was nearly pulling out her hair. Why in the name of Merlin had she received an invitation for dinner that also included her idiot jokers of twin brothers? Currently they were making crude jokes with the man behind them, causing the stern-looking elderly woman across from them peer over the top of her gold-rimmed glasses in disgust. Ginny smiled apologetically at her, and wished the ground would swallow them up.

"So who do you reckon sent this invite then?" Fred broke away from the boobs joke his brother was telling to look inquisitively at his sister.

"How am I supposed to know?" Ginny snapped irritably, turning away as George finished his joke and the two men guffawed heartily.

* * *

Looking up from his Muggle newspaper with a look of annoyance at the loud laughter coming from the front of the carriage, Draco cleared his throat, as if the sound would carry forward and get them to shut it. Exchanging a glance with the woman sat opposite him, he couldn't help but detect a gleam of mirth in her eyes, and this increased his annoyance.

"Something funny Professor?"

His companion shook her head, drawing her tartan shawl about her shoulder a little tighter. "I must admit that since the departure of Misters Fred and George Weasley from Hogwarts, the school has been very quiet."

Draco snorted. "Is that who it is?" He rose in his seat and spotted the tell-tale red hair of three Weasleys. "Fantastic," he muttered to himself. "Just what I needed."

"So," Minerva said, leaning forward. "What brings you to this part of the country on a day like this without your wife and son? Business?"

"No," Draco replied, folding the newspaper and producing an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "I received an owl earlier this week, bearing this particular invitation. Apparently I have been invited to a dinner party by some anonymous host out here in the country." He slipped the envelope back into his jacket. "To be honest," he added in an undertone, "it's a relief to get away from the wife and child you know? He's in the tantrum stage."

Minerva smiled fondly. She had never liked the young Slytherin as a student, but since leaving Hogwarts he had grown into a respectable young man. Apparently he and Harry were even on Christmas card terms now.

"What about you, if you don't mind me asking, Professor."

"It's been over a decade since you left school, you may call me Minerva, Mr Malfoy. I too received an invitation to the very same dinner party. I must say," she extracted her invitation from her bag, "that the handwriting does seem a little familiar." The last comment was more to herself than to Draco, and there was a small confused frown upon her face as she studied the letter closely, a practice that seemed to be familiar. "I'll be intrigued to see who our host is."

Draco nodded, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Me too Prof- Minerva."

* * *

The train pulled into a small station at just gone seven. The twilit sky was moonless and the air was chilly, the crisp bite of winter in the air and the electricity of a thunderstorm detectable in the breeze. Hermione stepped from the carriage, glad she had chosen to wear her good coat, thick wool reaching to mid-calf and lined with warm fleece. She drew it about her and spotted a sign a little way a head, held up by a man who instantly looked like a butler, right down to the white gloves. 'Mrs H Weasley' the sign said. Hermione approached.

"Do you have your invitation?" asked the man in a posh, upper class accent. When Hermione showed it to him, he nodded and put the sign down, pointing to a bench. "Wait here." He then retrieved another sign from at his feet and held it up. 'Mr D Malfoy' it said.

Soon, after two more sign changes, the man was surrounded by six people, all of whom had received the anonymous dinner invitation. He led them to a large car where he helped the ladies in and got into the front passenger seat. The car lurched away from the pavement and drove down a small country road.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the back, as the guests slid around on the vast leather seats. There was a screen between them and the driver, and a small minibar to one side, like the interior of a small limousine. It was empty.

The landscape outside was getting more and more wild by the minute. The car sped down narrow and twisty country lanes, taking them further and further away from civilisation until eventually an imposing sight met their eyes, silhouetted in the flashes from the lightening that was now forking from the sky.

The car had driven through a pair of wrought iron gates – if they had been paying attention, they would have been both aware and alarmed at how they were firmly shut and locked behind them – and was now advancing up a gravel driveway to one of the largest manor houses many of them had ever seen. It had wings and turrets and towers and was almost as impressive as Hogwarts Castle. Two flaming torches lit the front porch, although inside it was clear the place was powered by electricity. Dark velvet drapes were hung at the windows and candlelight flickered through the window of what Hermione suspected to be the dining room.

There was nobody greeting them at the front porch, not any sign of another car.

The car drew to a halt and the six occupants clambered out of the back, standing nervously on the gravel, shivering in the cold and trying to stay under the umbrellas that various people had opened. They hurried as a group to the front porch, where the man who had met them at the station had opened the front door. Behind them, the driver started the engine and slowly drove the car off, the sound of its engine fading as thunder boomed overhead.

They all stepped into a handsomely decorated hall. The parquet floor was highly polished and there was a pair of large griffins carved into the acps atop the large newel posts at the base of the wide wooden staircase. There was a fireplace between two closed doors, the grate roaring. Only one door stood open; this led to a comfortable looking library.

The man, now definitely identifiable as the butler dressed in tails, took their coats and showed them through to the library, where a domestic in a long French Maid dress was pouring champagne from a large bottle. For some strange reason, Hermione was briefly reminded of Magenta, the domestic in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but dismissed that thought: she was pretty certain that whilst this young domestic had frizzy hair – brown, not red – she was not, under any circumstances an alien.

"May I introduce Salome, our domestic, and my name is Hodgeson. I will be your butler for this evening." The butler clasped his hands behind his back, standing in the doorway. "Dinner will be ready shortly.

"Will our host not be joining us for drinks?" Minerva asked, sipping her champagne.

Hodgeson smiled. "No, but he will be along at dinner." He swept from the room, Salome following with the champagne bottle.

Draco was the first to speak. "So, who do you suppose our host is?"

"Has to be rich," George said, inspecting the shelves of books. "I mean look at this place."

Fighting the urge to give some snide remark that would poke fun at the Weasleys lack of money – in fact, Fred and George were now incredibly successful businessmen and when he had read in the paper that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was voted number one joke shop in the Wizarding World he nearly choked on his tea – Draco chose instead to grimace, trying to keep up his nasty-guy persona that everyone was so used to.

Hermione, predictably, had stuck her nose in a book. She recoiled suddenly, as if burned, and nearly knocked her champagne flute over. "Whoever it is, is either playing a sick joke, or is really into the Dark Arts."

Fred bent down to retrieve the book she had dropped. "She's right," he said, his face crumpling in disgust. "This book could well be some sort of instruction manual on how to be a Death Eater." The book was snatched from his hand by his twin, who in turn lost it to his sister. Minerva grabbed it off her and threw it onto the desk, looking wary.

"None of us should be reading that," she stated. "The end of the War brought an end to all this Dark Arts rubbish and we shouldn't delve into it. Just because our host has these books doesn't mean that he, or she, is a Death Eater." Despite no longer being their teacher at Hogwarts, she still had the authoritativeness over them and it was clear that her word was final.

Just then a gong sounded and Hodgeson reappeared. "This way," he said pleasantly, leading the way to a door opposite the library; Hermione's thought was right, it was indeed the dining room. The large table was dressed for seven, name cards stating who would sit where. There were cut glass wine glasses, silver cutlery and an impressive table decoration, which seemed to be some sort of cake, decorated with springs of wild flowers and six figurines in a miniature of the table setting.

Ginny shivered.

Once they were seated and had wine served to them from a crystal decanter, Salome reappeared with bowls of lobster bisque, which she daintily placed before them. When all seven plates had been set, the two servants stood back.

"Fred! It's rude to start before the host has arrived!" Ginny wrenched the spoon from her brother's hand, ignoring his scandalised look, and placed it back on the table. "Have the courtesy to wait." Turning to Hodgeson, she smiled. "Will our host be joining us now?" she asked.

Just then there was the sound of approaching feet from above them, then the clunk of men's low Cuban heels on wood as somebody, presumably, their host, descended the stair case. Fred grinned, thrust his napkin into his lap and sat with his hand over his spoon, ready to start the minute their host had sat down. The footsteps reached the base of the staircase and started to cross the parquet towards the dining room.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I apologise for my tardiness."

Fred was suddenly not hungry anymore. Minerva's eyes widened and Draco wheeled around in his seat to see what the fuss was about, his pale face blanching as he recognised the man standing before them, black dress robes swirling around him.

There was no mistaking the greasy tones or greasy hair of Severus Snape, as he made his way to the head of the table and sat, lip curling as he took in the shocked faces of his guests.

"Thank you for waiting," he said nonchalantly, smirking at them all and whipping his napkin into his lap. "Do begin."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

The six guests could do nothing but gaze open-mouthed at the sallow-skinned Potions Master, as he hungrily ate his soup, his black gaze never leaving the bowl until he had finished. Looking up, he swept his eyes around the table. Nobody else had touched their soup. As if on cue, they all sprang into action, eating without really tasting anything. Six spoons dropped almost simultaneously as they finished and the bowls were collected by Salome, whilst Hodgeson laid out an impressive spread of roast beef.

"So," Minerva said, determined to break the deafening silence. "What makes you invite us all here Severus?"

Snape merely smiled. All in good time my dear Minerva," he said, voice soft as velvet.

The roast beef was cooked to perfection, and the vegetables were fabulous; soft but with a little bite to them. Combined with beautifully crisp and fluffy roast potatoes, cloud-light Yorkshires and smooth, rich beef gravy, it was a meal to die for, and reminded them all of the wonderful feasts they used to enjoy at Hogwarts.

Once pudding, a warm apple and blackberry pie and cream, head been devoured, the six guests wiped their mouths, finished their wine and looked up the table to their host, who was sitting back in his chair, hands folded on the table in front of him.

"If you could all retire to the study for coffee." Hodgeson ushered them through to a handsomely decorated study, a large writing desk, a leather sofa and a crackling fireplace being the three most noticeable features in the room. Snape followed, carrying a large box, which he set down on the coffee table.

Hodgeson supervised Salome walking round with the tray of coffee, offered the gentlemen a brandy and then left, closing the door behind him.

Snape gave an approximation of a smile – halfway between a smirk, a sneer and his trademark lip-curl. He leaned against the mantle and surveyed the group: the twins were leaning against the wall, Draco standing by the door, Minerva perched on the sofa next to Hermione, and Ginny in the armchair, nervously fiddling with the hem of her beaded shrug.

"I suspect you are wondering why you are here? Well allow me to explain. You all have one thing in common, other than having attending Hogwarts School, of course. I do believe that you are all being blackmailed."

There was a gasp from one of the women.

"How did you know that?" Draco asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

Snape merely smiled. "It says here," he held up a letter that didn't seem to be dissimilar to their invitations, "that I am supposed to reveal the reasons why." He reached into the box and pulled out a small stack of papers and a manila envelope.

"Can't you spare us the humiliation of having our personal problems declared so publicly?" Hermione glanced round, hoping that nobody would think her a murderer or anything.

Ignoring her, Snape looked at his papers, smirked, and turned to Ginny. "Mrs Potter."

Ginny gulped: she didn't like his tone of voice.

"What could someone as innocent as you, Mrs Potter, have done to warrant you willing to pay all you can afford to keep someone quiet I wonder?" Snape started to pace around the room. "Could it be that you not only had an affair (Hermione gasped) but also have neglected to tell your husband something rather important about your youngest two children?"

Ginny remained silent, tears threatening to spill, her mouth a light line. Hermione's hands had flown to her mouth. Ginny, an adulteress? Never!

"Of course, if Mr Potter were to find out that young Albus and Lily were in fact Albus and Lily Longbottom..."

Hermione, being Godmother to Albus Potter, nearly screamed. "_Neville_? You had an affair with _Neville_?" She started to hyperventilate and had to be soothed by Minerva, who was looking at Ginny as though she were an alien. Draco looked indifferent, but the twins were astonished that their sister could cheat on her adoring husband and lie about the two lovechildren. Let alone that Neville himself had a daughter and another on the way.

His nasty smile stretching wider as he wreaked his havoc, Snape turned to his next victim. "Speaking of children, Professor McGonagall, I think it's time to tell all about the little, ahem, business you have going in the Room of Requirement?"

Everyone's heads snapped to Minerva, who had blanched. "Severus," she rasped, "you wouldn't dare!"

Snape's eyes were glittering maliciously. "On the contrary my dear, I would. You see, our dear Professor here runs a, well, I suppose one would call it a _brothel_, within the Room of Requirement, which aid those older students who are a little hard up for cash earn some pocket money." He glanced at the still shell-shocked Ginny. "I'm surprised you didn't know about this Mrs Potter. After all, it's been going for years and your family aren't the best off are they?"

Draco, who had opened his mouth to possibly say the same thing, closed it, looking incredulously at his former Transfiguration teacher. The rest of them were former Gryffindors, and were amazed that their Head of House, one of the strictest teachers on Hogwarts staff, would be capable of sustaining a secret business based in debauchery.

"And this brings us to Mr Weasley over there," Snape continued, pointing to the twins. "Mr George Weasley to be precise. Your brothers and sister would be intrigued to know what you've been doing."

George flushed furiously to the roots of his flaming hair, avoiding the puzzled looks from his twin and sister.

"You two may wish to be careful where you have, ah, relations with in the future. You see, your dear brother here has a rather successful business selling pornography. But not just any pornography. Every video or picture is of a sexual conquest that a member of the Weasley family, bar your parents, has experienced.

A shriek from Ginny and a howl of pain from George indicated to everyone that the blur they had seen was indeed Ginny, who had shot out of her seat and was now pummelling George as hard as she could. "You sick bastard!" she yelled. "Now half the Wizarding World has pictures and videos of me and Harry having sex!" She slapped him hard across the face and Fred took the opportunity to pull her oaway.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" George bellowed.

Snape drew a moving black-and-white photograph from his manila envelope. It depicted a Weasley – by the groan of embarrassment from Fred, it appeared to be him – having a passionate sexual encounter with a woman who was just out of shot, but who appeared to have a large amount of tousled, bushy hair that Fred was using as a handhold, thrusting deep, a look of pure ecstasy on his face. This was a double scandal: not only were six people suddenly aware of Fred having sex, but they were also aware that this was not his wife.

"So Weasley's having an affair as well?" Draco seemed somewhat gleeful. "Is that why he's being blackmailed?" He cast a look towards Ginny, still held in her brother's arms. "Is it you Mrs _Potter_? Or should that be Longbottom?"

Ginny flew out of Fred's arms and punched Draco hard in the nose. Blood spurted out and down his black silk shirt.

"You bitch!" he shrieked, pulling out a deep red handkerchief to stem the bleeding.

"So, now we know the secrets of Professor McGonagall, Mrs Potter and Mr Weasley. So that leaves Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy over there. Oh be quiet boy!" He strode over to where Draco was still howling and clutching his broken nose, took out his wand and waved it over the bloody mess., the nose healing instantly. He gave a grunt of approval and strode back to the fireplace. "As I was saying, Mrs Weasley. Would you like to spare yourself the humiliation of being exposed as your parents' killer?"

This time everyone, bar Draco who was still mopping his face, muttering darkly to himself as he examined his shirt, gasped aloud. Ginny whispered. "But you said- you said they went to-"

"Australia?" Snape interrupted. "Rather convenient isn't it? The week they announce they disapproved of your courtship with one Ronald Weasley they disappear completely, apparently emigrating to Australia. Unfortunately, it seems all too likely that they were killed, particularly since the officer investigating their sudden disappearance also vanished without a trace."

There was another collective gasp. Even Draco Malfoy couldn't believe that a brainy bookworm like Granger could ever be capable of killing a police officer, let alone her own parents.

"It's a lie," Hermione whispered as Minerva retreated slightly, shocked. "It's all a lie! I have the proof that they did go to Australia! I wiped their memories so they wouldn't miss me when I left to help Harry and Ron find Horcruxes. After I told them that Ron and I were dating, they said that they didn't approve, that he was a bad influence, that he could have gotten me killed. I wasn't going to let them ruin my chances with Ron. But I didn't _kill_ them over it."

"And yet you are paying a substantial amount in blackmail," Snape stated smoothly. "If you are innocent, why are you doing so?"

"Because I don't want a scandal of any kind! You know what would happen to me if Molly suspected me of murder!" Hermione looked imploringly at her brothers and sister-in-law. "You have to believe me, I killed nobody!"

"I believe you," Ginny said quietly, although she didn't seem one hundred percent certain.

"Now," Snape said, turning to Draco, "speaking of sudden disappearances, whatever did happen to Miss Parkinson? You and she had a fond relationship for many years during and after your schooldays, and yet, she is not the woman you married, seeing as she disappeared suddenly a few months before you were due to marry Miss Greengrass." His eyes glittering even more, he pushed off the mantle and advanced towards his former favourite. "Bit odd don't you think? Considering you and Miss Greengrass had been having quite the affair during your courtship with Miss Parkinson."

Draco was shaking with fury, but nobody was truthfully shocked. To the Gryffindors, it didn't surprise them that Malfoy may be capable of murder; he was a little git at school.

"I didn't kill Pansy," he spat through gritted teeth.

Snape said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow, before turning back to the fireplace. "That just leaves Mr Weasley does it not?" He grinned nastily at Fred, who swallowed noisily, suddenly very aware of the food in his stomach. "It has already been established that he had or is having an affair, but this is not the reason for his blackmail." He glanced at George. "Mr Weasley, have you ever wondered why your income is always slightly higher than it should be, if you were to take true account of what you are selling in that highly successful shop of yours?"

George narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his former teacher and nemesis. "Ye-es," he said slowly, looking at his blushing brother and realising that, for once, Snape was right about him. "Why?"

"Well it would appear that all those products that you developed, the ones that were popular but ultimately banned due to safety risks – I believe your Punching Telescopes were among those particular items – are still being sold."

George scoffed, returning to his previous mentality about the Potions teacher. "That's impossible. Any items that end up banned are destroyed. We take them off the shelves, put them in a box and lock them in Fred's office..." He trailed off as the terrible realisation hit him and he whipped his head round to look at his brother, who was standing, mouth tight and eyes squeezed shut. "You cheating bastard, you've been selling them on the black market haven't' you?"

"Precisely," Snape answered, grinning evilly.

"So now you've humiliated us Severus," Minerva said icily, "do tell us what your involvement in this is."

Snape's lip curled and he looked almost happy. "Oh hadn't you guessed?" he said, a note of mirth in his greasy voice. "I'm the one blackmailing you."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

There was instant uproar and Snape had to dive behind the writing desk beside him to prevent getting beaten to a pulp.

"You. Absolute BASTARD!" Minerva shrieked, shocking everyone into silence. Her usual cool demeanour was shattered; pink patches on her cheeks and spit flying from her mouth. "Why I'll tell...I'll tel... I'LL TELL ALBUS!"

There was a snigger from behind the desk. "You wouldn't tell him. HE wouldn't believe you. He trusts me too much. And plus, if you tell him, you'd have to reveal the reason why, and I'm not sure he'd be impressed that you're operating an illegal bordello within his school."

Minerva remained mute, fists clenched, her hair descending from its elegant bun and her pupils huge.

Snape clambered up from his hiding place. "Aren't you all intrigued to see my gifts?"

They all turned to the box. Inside were a number of curiously shaped boxes, each of them black and tied with a red ribbon, a name tag denoting which one was for which guest. Snape handed them out – Draco's had an emerald green ribbon – and sat on the edge of the writing desk in order to see them open their gifts.

"What the-."

Hermione had opened hers to reveal a shiny 45 calibre Colt revolver. Checking the barrel she saw there were six bullets.

Fred was equally confused. He pulled out a large crescent spanner from the red tissue paper, and George was given a large, gold plated candlestick. Ginny had received a lead pipe and Minerva a dagger, which she immediately tossed into the coffee table. Draco was left holding a rope after he'd discarded the box.

"Oh," he said, "it's already been helpfully tied into a noose." He dropped it like it was a live wire.

"What's the meaning of this?" Minerva asked, staring at the revolver in Hermione's lap.

"You each have a lethal weapon," Snape stated superfluously. "Everyone in here now knows your secrets, which means you now have motive. After all, if you kill each other then there'll be nobody to give any evidence against you. Potter, I noticed you've been flinching whenever you make eye contact with my domestic here. Would that be because she told your husband she'd caught you in bed with Longbottom? Would that also be because you caught her in bed your husband?"

"Salome had an affair with Harry," Ginny spat the name as if it were a mouthful of Skele-Gro. "When I found out I told her that I would tell someone, anyone, and she revealed she'd seen me with Neville and knew the parentage of Albus and Lily. She threatened to tell Harry. I had to keep quiet. The moment I saw her here and you told us that you're the blackmailer, I made the connection that she'd been the one to inform on me." Ginny threw a withering look towards the door through which the servant had departed earlier.

"And Misters Weasley, I noticed you seem acquainted with my butler. No doubt you must have realised he informed on you two to me."

"Yeah," Fred said, still examining the spanner in his hand. "He used to work at our shop, but then resigned without telling us why; just upped and left. I guess now I understand what happened to him." He shot daggers at the teacher, clutching the spanner and looking like he dearly wished he could smack it straight into the greasy git's skull.

"Of course," Snape remarked, picking up an ornament from the mantle and peering at it, "none of you have met our lovely cook, Mrs Green..."

Minerva gasped. "I knew it!" she hissed to herself, "I knew she was no good!" When she saw everyone looking at her, confused, she decided she ought to explain. "My cook, at home, she knew about my...business and threatened to tell Professor Dumbledore, so I dismissed her, sent her far away where she couldn't possibly tell him. Seems I know now her ultimate fate." She glared at Snape. She'd never been fond of him, even as a student and his position as head of Slytherin put them into an extremely adversarial relationship. But now she was looking at him with pure, unadulterated hatred as opposed to the usual cold professionalism.

"As I was saying," Snape said softly," you each hold a lethal weapon and now know everything. Everything about the people around you, about the very servants who gave you such a delicious dinner, and me. Bear in mind that if you tell anyone, you too will be exposed and humiliated, I'll see to it that that happens. But if you kill your informants, when nobody else has to die. Not even me. You can go," he paused, licking his lips, "and I'll continue to blackmail you."

"So it's kill or be killed, essentially?" Hermione scoffed. "None of your idiotic plan makes any sense."

"What?" Snape sneered.

"Are you stupid?" George said scathingly. "We'll just kill you. Then we get off scot free and you can't blackmail us any longer."

Snape seemed to realise the flaw in his 'ingenious' plan because he went a little paler, but there was a sudden crash from above them and Hodgeson came flying in, breathless.

"There's an intruder sir," he panted. "I'm unsure as to his whereabouts, but he seems confused, possibly injured."

The last thing Snape needed was an intruder, never mind if they were injured – he couldn't care less if that was the case. Growling, he addressed his companions. "We're to spit up. Who knows who that intruder could be? Four of us are to go upstairs, and the others search down here." And with that he swept from the room.

Having no choice but to follow, George, Hermione and Minerva headed upstairs behind Snape, leaving Draco, Fred and Ginny standing in the vast hallway, wondering where to begin. Draco opened one of the many doors and found a ballroom, Ginny opened another and discovered a billiards table.

"What's that for?" she wondered aloud, wishing she was with Hermione: she would know.

They checked the dining room, the kitchen where Salome was washing up – Ginny walked out very quickly – and then the billiard room. That left the study which they had just left, the lounge, the library and another door which they discovered led to a luxurious conservatory. They could hear footsteps upstairs going from room to room but no tell-tale sounds of someone who shouldn't be there.

"We haven't' checked the ballroom," Ginny said. "It's along here, I'll pop in there and you two check the conservatory." The boys nodded and she took the few paces to the ballroom. Flicking on the light, she illuminated the room, finding the dance floor empty and the curtains drawn. They were moving slightly. Certain it was just a breeze, Ginny advanced, wishing she'd picked up one of the weapons in the study.

Whipping back the curtains, she was pleased to know that her original assumption had been correct: there was a breeze coming from the slightly uneven floor by the door: this must be a very old manor. The French windows opened out onto an impressive looking garden, illuminated by the rectangular splotches of light from the windows. For a second Ginny thought the intruder could be outside, but then realised nobody in their right mind would dare be outside in this weather.

Upstairs, the guests were having no luck. Hermione deduced that the intruder must have gone downstairs.

"But we didn't hear anyone go down the stairs, and they're not carpeted." Minerva couldn't hide the wobble in her voice. "They _must_ be up here."

Glancing round, Hermione frowned. There were four bedrooms, an ensuite, two bathrooms and a smoking room on this floor, plus the attic where Snape and George were now and the locked doors that led to the east and west wings. Snape maintained that nobody could get in there: they were magically sealed and no spell could unlock it, unless it came from the person who had locked it, which he claimed not to be him.

So far Hermione and Minerva had checked two out of four bedrooms and both ensuite bathrooms. Currently they were searching one of the two master bathrooms, so large Hermione felt sure the whole of Gryffindor House could fit inside no trouble, and Snape and George had done the others.

"Smoking room?" Minerva said. It was the room right above the study, and they had purposely left it the latest. They made their way across the landing towards it. Hermione, summoning up as much Gryffindor courage as she could, reached a trembling hand for the knob, but the door remained firmly shut.

"Is it another spell?" she pondered, pulling at the door and wishing she'd thought of bringing her wand.

Just then her musings were interrupted by the most frightening, bloodcurdling scream known to man.

"It's coming from the kitchen!" Minerva yelled and the two women collided with George and Snape who were haring from the attic. Untangling themselves, they dragged themselves upright and hurried down the stairs, only to bash into Fred and Draco, bolting from the conservatory. Ginny was sprinting out of the ballroom as fast as her legs would take her.

"What was that?" she rasped, petrified.

"SALOME!" everybody shouted at once and there was a clamour of feet and many curses of pain as they all tried to cram themselves through the door and into the passageway to the kitchen, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone seven people simultaneously.

Draco was the first to make it into the kitchen and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing Hermione and Minerva to collide painfully with his back and Ginny to go crashing into the doorjamb.

"What's going on?" yelled one of the twins from the back of the pack. "Hey, where did Snape go?"

"To the study," replied the other twin. "That is if he has any sense in him: there's an unknown person in this house who may have just attacked the domestic. Who knows what they could have done other to make her scream like that! It sounded like she'd been murdered!"

"Well said Weasley." Draco's voice was barely a hoarse whisper. "Because that's exactly what's happened."

They all swelled forward and Ginny, who couldn't see past Draco, squeaked frightfully.

There, lying on the floor, was Salome, the noose tied tightly around her neck and a look of pure terror still etched upon her face.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

For a few moment nobody spoke. They stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear their eyes away from the terrible sight that was Salome's strangled corpse. Then-

"We should move her."

It was Hermione who had broken the silence. She inched around Draco and down the few steps into the large kitchen, trembling from head to foot. She shuffled towards the body lying in front of the massive sink, still filled to the brim with plates, pots and suds. Salome's arms were wet and there was water splashed down the front of her dress. Her brown eyes were wide and vacant, a slight scream still evident in her mouth.

Hermione reached down with shaking fingers and gingerly closed the young servant's eyes. "She never saw it coming."

There was a thump, a rush of feet and a gasp of pain as George seized Draco by the lapels of his jacket and threw him up against the wall. "Did you kill her?" he spat.

"No!" Draco pulled himself free, straightening his jacket. "I dropped the rope on the floor way before we even heard the intruder, and then I was with your brother for the rest of it."

George shot a glance to his brother, who confirmed it with a nod.

"Plus," Draco continued, "I have no motive to kill this servant girl. I didn't know her until tonight. If anyone has motive it's Longbottom's lover over there." He rudely pointed ro Ginny, who scoffed indignantly.

"I didn't kill her!"

Fred looked uneasily over at his sister. "Well, you had the motive. And you were alone in that ballroom... I guess it's possible you could have snuck across to the kitchen and killed her..."

"I DIDN'T KILL HER!" Ginny was now flushing red with anger and shame over the reason why she would have the motive to kill the domestic. She looked wildly round at everyone to find they were all wearing an expression of slight distrust. "You have to believe me!"

Just then they became very aware that their host had still not returned and there was an eerie silence in the house. The rain was no longer lashing down in sheets, but falling gently and all traces of a thunderstorm had disappeared. Cautiously, after moving Salome's body to the kitchen table, where they sat her in a chair and laid her head on the table as of she were sleeping, the six of them made their way through the hall and into the study where another terrifying discovery was to be made.

Severus Snape was sprawled on the floor, the lead pipe next to him and blood from a deep wound in his scalp leaching into the pale carpet. His greasy hair was matted with blood and his arm was outstretched, as if he was about to grab the ankle of the person nearest and jump up shaking with suppressed laughter, telling them it was all part of his plan. Draco even looked like he hoped it to be true.

They all knew deep down he wouldn't be grabbing anyone's ankle anymore.

"Oh God," Hermione wailed, burying her face in Fred's shoulder.

"Merlin's beard," Minerva breathed, kneeling down next to the lifeless form of her former colleague. "I never liked him but I never wanted..." She trailed off, looking at Ginny. "You dropped the pipe didn't you?" She stood. We were all in the kitchen when this happened. So none of us could be the killer."

"That still doesn't explain which one of you killed the servant." Draco shot a suspicious glance in Ginny's direction. "Any one of you could have done it."

George turned round, perhaps to say something about Ginny being the only one who was alone at the time of the murder, but he was cut short by a surprised shout from the hall. Fred had wandered out and was standing in the dining room doorway, pointing at the ornate table decoration in the centre of the dining table.

It escaped nobody's notice that of the six figurines, one had a piece of string tied around its neck, and another was lying face down on the surface of the cake, a small amount 'blood' pooled about the head. Next to it, was a matchstick, painted silver, to serve as the miniature pipe.

"What...?" Fred gently poked the figurine representing Snape, as if may suddenly become reanimated.

Taking the lead as the only other member of Hogwarts staff there, Minerva raised her hands. "OK, I think we should continue to search the house. I mean to say, if I've deduced this correctly and four more people are to die, then I for one would like to see if we can catch the murderer before it's one of us." There was a murmur of agreement, and they split back into pairs; Hermione went with Fred, Ginny with George and Minerva with Draco.

They were standing in the hall ready to split off and search the ground floor when there was a cough from inside a small room which must be the toilet.

Gripping Fred's arm so hard he hissed in pain, Hermione dragged herself forward as the toilet flushed. For a moment she was confused as to why the killer would do something so obvious as to take a leak in the middle of a house where he had just murdered two people, but the sound of the doorknob rattling stopped that thought before it could develop any further. Digging her nails in, she reached for her wand before realising it wasn't there and panicking as the door swung open and a person stumbled out.

Ginny screamed.

It was Neville.

He was in a bad way. Evidently he had fallen out of the Floo, and had an impressive gash on one hand, to which he was holding a wad of paper towels from the toilet. He was covered in soot and had various bruises, cuts and scratches on his face from falling face first out of the grate.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The guests immediately denied it, apart from Hermione, who had always been a stickler for honesty. "Well actually, yes you are." Everyone else groaned.

Neville cocked an eyebrow. "I heard a scream. What happened?"

Everyone was suddenly at a loss as to what to say. Could they possibly tell Neville that in the space of five minutes two people had been brutally murdered? Or that they even suspected it could have been him? Draco still looked suspicious of him, but judging by the size of the gash, he would have bled everywhere and whilst that wouldn't look out of place in the study, there was not a drop of blood to be found in the kitchen.

Plus, Hermione suspected that Neville, who was still terrified of Snape, would never have the guts to enter a room alone with him, let alone smack him over the head with a lead pipe.

"The domestic just, ah, fainted! Yes, she fainted!" Hermione examined the wound on Neville's hand and grimaced as fresh blood welled up. "Well we'll just take you along to the st- ah, no. Um, how the kitch- no.. no good. Uh, would you like to, ah, come to the bathroom!" She chastised herself for slipping up as she led Neville upstairs.

"There must still be someone in this house," George murmured to Minerva. "Neville can't be the killer, so there's someone here other than us and the butler and the cook."

"How are they getting around?" Minerva questioned.

"These old houses must be full of secret passageways, maybe he's using one of them?" Draco suggested, as Neville and Hermione reappeared.

"I think you need to tell me what exactly is happening here," Neville said, looking confusedly between the overly-cheerful Hermione to the ashen faces of her companions and the glimmers for fear in their eyes. "And why is there someone creeping about between the rooms like a madman?"

Everyone gasped. "M-Madman?" Hermione stammered.

"What do you mean, there's some creeping about?" Minerva uncharacteristically shoved Draco and Ginny aside so she could see Neville properly.

"I've been hearing footsteps, but not like yours. Really quiet ones, sometimes from inside the walls!" Neville looked around. "I thought it was a mouse, but they're too loud and they aren't scrabbling. I think there's someone in the house. A-and then I heard the scream and you all came running. Then there was some voices in that room over there and a thump and then you all came running again."

It didn't escape his notice that everyone was staring at him wide-eyed.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Well if you'd excuse me, I have to... ah..." Minerva pointed towards the toilet and strode off, locking herself in. They heard the distant sounds of her retching and Ginny was privately surprised that they hadn't all thrown up by now.

Hermione sighed, laid a hand on Neville's shoulder and got him to sit on the step. "Neville," she said, unsure how exactly to tell him. "Salome, the servant, screamed because she was being strangled. The thump was Snape after he was cracked over the head with a pipe. The person you heard sneaking about is a murderer and as it stands, he is still in the house."

And then the lights went out, plunging them into pitch blackness.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Standing in the pitch darkness, Hermione could feel her hand still on Neville's shoulder, now shaking, and she could hear the rapid breaths from someone down the stairs. She could hear nothing from the toilet.

"Is everyone OK?" said a Weasley twin from in the dark hall.

"Of course we're fine Weasley, the lights went out is all." Draco sounded irritable. "Anyone know where the fuse box is?"

"Cellar?" suggested the other Weasley twin.

"Anyone fancy going down there in the pitch dark cellar to turn the power back on?" Ginny asked, somewhat rhetorically.

"Why don't we all go down?" Neville suggested. "Safely in numbers and all that."

"What about Minerva?" Hermione called, helping Neville up and feeling her way down the stairs.

"She'll be fine, she's locked in the toilet," Ginny said dismissively, but still called out that they were going to be back in a few minutes and to stay put.

The cellar was through a door to the left of the kitchen passage. Draco went first, feeling his way down the narrow rickety staircase and through the damp gloom. The rest of the group followed and found themselves in the damp gloom of a cellar that had not been opened for quite some time.

"Now what?"

Draco swore as he bumped into something hard and painful that upon inspection turned out to be a boiler. "I guess we''ll just have to feel around the walls, it has to be here somewhere right?"

There was a sudden scream. "If the killer turned it off, then he's still down here!" Ginny was almost hysterical at the thought that her safety was even more compromised in pitch darkness. "We have to-"

"-SHH!" Someone cut her off. Above them, they could hear very quiet footsteps in the kitchen. They heard a murmur of voices but they couldn't determine who it was. Then then were an ear splitting shriek and a crash of someone falling to the floor.

"THE COOK!" Everyone shouted and there was a lot of cursing and shoving as they all tried to find their way to the stairs and up in the impermeable darkness.

In the kitchen someone had lit a candle, casting very a small light towards the back of the room by the kitchen table, where Salome's corpse was still sitting. The group smashed into something fairly solid, which toppled to the ground, revealing it to be a someone: Minerva had flown out of the toilet at the sound of the scream had been standing open-mouthed in the doorway.

The reason became immediately apparent: the Cook, Mrs Green, who had prepared them such a wonderful meal, was lying on the kitchen tiles, the dagger embedded deep in her back.

* * *

"Another murder?" Fred had to sit down but missed the chair in the semi-darkness and crashed to the floor. Under normal circumstances he felt sure that Malfoy would have completely taken the Michael but he remained silent, staring at the body.

Neville made a kind of squeak at the back of his throat.

Suddenly the lights came back on. Turning round they spotted George coming back in. He looked sheepish. "The fuse box? It was next to the cellar door and it was open."

They looked back to the body. "We could have prevented this," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Fred scrambled upright as his sister began to cry, flinging an arm around her and hugging her tightly.

"Wait," Hermione said, turning to Minerva suspiciously, "wasn't she your cook? The one who informed on you? You have the motive!"

Minerva looked suddenly outraged at the possibility that her former best student was no insinuating that she murdered an innocent woman. She was indeed a conniving backstabber, no pun intended, but she was still innocent. Nobody apart from the scum of society deserved to be murdered. All she could do was swell up a little and cluck like an annoyed chicken.

"Look, we should split up again." George piped up from the doorway. "We need to find the killer, it's imperative. And plus, he's most likely on the ground floor – we haven't heard anyone go up the stairs have we?"

There was a general murmur of agreement and they split back up, Hermione seizing Fred's arm again and followed him down the passage. George and Draco decided to remain in the kitchen and drag the cook's body to the table with Salome.

"Where to start?" Draco muttered to himself as he grabbed a meat cleaver and peered around the corner into the pantry, which was blissfully empty.

Establishing the killer was no longer in the kitchen, the two boys headed out into the hall, where they noticed that another figure had been mutilated in the dining room: there was a small toy sword wrenched through the fabric of the little doll.

"This is getting sinister," Draco remarked and George agreed.

Meanwhile, Neville and Minerva was searching in the billiards room. He was still white and trembling and seeing Snape's corpse lying unceremoniously in the study hadn't made him feel better so Fred had suggested they move it. Hodgeson had also quietly suggested they lock the remaining weapons in the cupboard.

"Excellent idea!" Fred had said and they strode into the study, where Snape's body was still unceremoniously slumped on the floor. Whilst Fred heaved him onto the sofa, Hodgeson collected the revolver, the spanner and candlestick and shoved them into a small cupboard, which he then locked. It was clear that he was the first person to see his master's body, if his facial expression and lack of shock as they re-entered the room was anything to go by.

Now, despite the knowledge that the weapons were safely locked in a cupboard and butler had disposed of the key via the waste disposal in the kitchen – he had nearly screamed when he spotted the body of the cook – Neville still felt like he was in danger.

Minerva wandered into the hall. Hermione and Fred were in the ballroom and she crept inside to ask if they needed help, but caught a snippet of their conversation and held back, hidden in the darkened bar are of the room.

"-believe Draco thought you were my sister," Fred was saying. "I mean, I know he hates our family, but I never thought that he'd suspect me of incest." He scoffed.

Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. "But at least he didn't recognise me. Draco may not be as foul as he used to be, but he's certainly still a piece of work and he'd waste no time in telling Ron that I cheated on him with you."

Minerva stopped herself gasping audibly. First Ginny and now Hermione? Two respectable girls, adulteresses? And after all Hermione had been through with Ron...

Deciding she'd had enough of eavesdropping, Minerva crept out into the hall to the conservatory where she discovered Draco having fallen against a wall, which had opened behind him.

"I said this house had to be full of secret passageways didn't I?" he announced triumphantly. Picking up a Muggle torch from the shelf, he beckoned the three of them inside. "I wonder where this goes."

Ginny looked as if she'd rather go anywhere but down a creepy hidden passage when there was a killer on the loose.

The passage was dark and narrow and the torch was on its last legs. The feeble beam barely illuminated the uneven flagstone floor, and it reminded Draco of Potions in the dungeon. His heart gave an odd kind of pang when he realised that he had been reminded of his late housemaster. It was still hard to believe he had been murdered so brutally.

"How long does this thing go on for?" Minerva said irritably.

Halfway through the passage, they heard an almighty smash and then faint running feet across the hall, and a gunshot.

"Not another killing!" Minerva screeched and the four of them hurtled along the passageway to find it was already open: the fireplace seemed to rotate and allow them through, which explained also to why they could hear everything so clearly.

Hermione and Fred sprinted in and Fred did a Draco: he stopped dead in his tracks, causing Hermione to smash face first into him.

They had emerged into the lounge. The revolver was lying underneath a chair and for a second they thought it had just gone off accidentally, but then everyone followed Fred's wide eyes and Ginny fainted, Draco catching her just before her head hit the stone hearth.

Behind an ornate writing desk, slumped against the wall, a bloody smear indicating he'd slid down and with his snapped wand still clutched in his right hand, was Neville, expertly shot through the heart.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Whilst Draco tried to make Ginny come to, Fred strode to the study to examine the cupboard. "Well," he said gravely upon his return, "there's no doubt about it. There's a killer in the house. None of us could have broken into the cupboard; none of us have our wands." He looked from Minerva, clutching her heart and staring fearfully at the body of her former pupil, to his sister in Draco's arms. "Neither of you two have killed, that much I am certain."

It wasn't much consolation. Four people had died and now there was a madman in the house with the two remaining weapons.

"I want to get out!" Hermione, usually the voice of reason and calm in the Power Trio, was suddenly hysterical. She ran into the hall, nearly slipping over on the polished parquet and slammed into the front door, tugging on the handle. "Locked!" she choked. "We've been locked in!"

Fred went into the dining room, attempting to wrench open a window. "This is locked too! We have no escape." He looked panicked, and his expression grew even more so when he pointed at the table. "Look, another figure..."

They all rushed in. Sure enough, a fourth figure had been modified; it was in a sitting position on the 'floor', a hole through its chest and a snapped toothpick representing Neville's snapped wand. He'd tried to defend himself, but it had all been in vain.

"Where's the butler, he must have the key?" Draco appeared, supporting a pasty-faced Ginny.

They all hurried out but were suddenly aware that none of them had the faintest idea where the butler would be: his appearances were sparse and he definitely hadn't been in the kitchen when they'd discovered the cook. Just then, Ginny pointed a shaking finger to the entrance to the kitchen passage.

On the floor, just inside the passage, lay a spanner.

* * *

Laying the butler's body next to that of his colleagues, the six guests stopped for a moment to re-evaluate their situation. Here they were, in a country manor house, with five dead bodies, a killer on the loose and no means of escape. This coupled with the sinister figures on the table – they all knew there would eventually be one in imitation of the butler, hit over the head with the spanner – was aspiring to all new levels of Bête-Noire.

Searching through Hodgeson's pockets, Draco shook his head, unable to find a door key. They found the key to the cupboard, but his chatelaine was missing; he had definitely been jangling when they had seen him throughout the evening.

"The killer must have taken it." Ginny's voice was barely a whisper. "We're trapped."

"And one of us has to die." George's comment was unhelpful but true. "There's a sixth and final figurine on the table."

"I suggest we search the house again," Minerva croaked, sounding as though it was merely to keep them occupied until the terror of night was over and the cold light of morning could chase the frights away.

The twins remained behind in the kitchen. Fred picked up the cleaver that Draco had abandoned earlier and jumped into the pantry, secret agent style, brandishing the huge knife dangerously. "I CAN SEE YOU!" he shouted to the assortment of tins on the shelves.

Snorting at his brother's comical searching style, George set about examining some cupboards he'd noticed earlier. One of them turned out to be a large meat locker and George pushed aside the chickens hanging inside to ensure there wasn't anyone hiding under an invisibility cloak or something. He knocked a meat hook which seemed to rise like a lever and suddenly, silently, the rear of the locker opened, revealing another secret passage.

"Cor," Fred breathed, dropping the cleaver and joining his twin. "Nice find Forge."

George grinned. "Thanks Gred." Together they set off along the narrow passage, feeling their way down until they came to the end. Pushing on the wall, it swung open, revealing a surprised Hermione and Ginny in the study, gently moving Neville's body next to that of Snape.

They'd stepped out of a large painting on the far wall of the study. Its occupant, a rather ugly old man, was snoozing peacefully, unaware as to the two deaths that had occurred within the room, let alone him being swung open and used as access for the killer.

"This must be how the killer disposed of the cook." Hermione paced over to the painting, pushed it open and peered down the gloomy brick passage. "The killer must have come out from where he or she was hiding, walked down the passage and killed the cook. Then, whilst we were distracted in the kitchen with the body, he snuck out through the secret passage. He must have stayed there hearing us lock the weapons in the cupboard, and then when we split up he bust it open." She pointed at Neville, lying as if he were sleeping – if one could imagine the gunshot wound in his chest was absent of course. "Neville goes to investigate, sees the killer and in trying to defend himself and us, gets shot."

There was silence for a few minutes.

"Explains why we could never find him, even if he'd been in the room moments beforehand," George said, pushing the painting, which had now closed. George gently pushed it; it swung open with relative ease and as soon as George let go swung back, as if it were spring loaded. In the time it had taken for them to run to investigate the gunshot, the killer had easily slipped back into the lounge's secret passage and run through to the conservatory, and why he'd not been visible when Snape had been bludgeoned. It also explained how he was able to get out of the kitchen to do so, so easily.

Hermione sat down in a chair not occupied by a corpse and nibbled on her lip. "So at the beginning of the evening, the killer had to have been in the house right? He must have hidden in the secret passage from here to the kitchen, listening to our conversation, so when we left to investigate Neville's sudden appearance upstairs, he could slip out and grab the noose, goback down to the kitchen and strangle Salome. Whilst we ran to go to her and Snape ran in here to get the gun, he was hit over the back of the head by the killer, who was still in the secret passage."

They sat or stood there, deliberating what Hermione had just told them. It did make an awful lot of sense. Hermione called the others in to relay her theory on the murders of Salome and Snape; Minerva's eyes nearly popping out of her skull.

Draco gave a low whistle. "But there's one thing I don't understand."

"One thing?" Ginny chuckled bitterly.

"We still don't know why the killer, whoever he or she may be, is doing this." Draco carried on as if Ginny hadn't spoken. "I mean, if it's someone we've pissed off, then why aren't _we_ dead? Why are the only people who've died been servants or innocent bystanders like Longbottom?"

"Are you forgetting where Neville stands in this?" Ginny hissed. "He's the father of two of my three children."

George's eyes widened. "You don't think Harry could be behind this do you?"

Draco gave an audible laugh. It was such a welcome sound, so genuine, that they all started to laugh, even Minerva who had been looking as if she were about to have a severe heart attack any moment.

"It would make sense," Hermione chortled reasonably. "I mean, Salome was his former mistress, and it's likely she really did tell him about Neville and Albus and Lily. But look on the other hand," she added quickly as Ginny's face flushed with anger, "it's highly unlikely that Harry would resort to murder, much less the murders of people who had nothing to do with that: I'm pretty sure he didn't know the butler or the cook, or have any real reason to kill Snape." She deliberately ignored Fred's cough.

Just then they herad a barely audible scuffle from behind the portrait, still snoozing to George's left.

They sprang into action. Fred pushed open the painting and flung himself through it, his brother and sister at his heels. The other three left the bodies to run to the kitchen.

Through their pounding heartbeats and rapid breaths they could hear feet running away from them down the uneven passageway floor. Tripping over loose flagstones – there was one hairy moment when George fell into he wall hard and grazed his face on the brick, nearly knocking himself out in the process – they raced through the passage, noting it seemed to have grown exponentially in the few minutes since they had last traversed it.

Meanwhile, Minerva, Draco and Hermione were racing into the kitchen, each taking a hold of a utensil or item of cookware in order to subdue the killer. They could hear the feet approaching through the still open passageway.

"Idiot must've followed the twins down the passage, hoping to get at them," Minerva said, brandishing a wok.

With a crash, the twins fell through the opening, panting. Minerva nearly brought her wok down on Fred's head.

"WHERE IS HE?" bellowed Minerva passionately, making Hermione and Draco jump a mile in the opposite direction, aware she was holding some very heavy cookware.

"There's – another – passageway," George wheezed. "He – must've – slipped – down – it." He pointed a shaking finger down the passage, leaning on his knees to get his breath back. The other three pushed impatiently past him – Minerva kept a hold of the wok – and hurried down the darkened passage.

Eventually they came to Ginny, standing at an opened trapdoor. "I found it," she whispered superfluously, and crouched down, picking up her skirt.

Feeling their way down the steps, the six of them emerged into another passageway, leaning steeply downwards. It smelled as fi it came out in the cellar. In the distance, they could hear footsteps and thuds, as if someone were crashing around, trying to get out. Steeling their Gryffindor nerve, bravery and chivalry – Draco decided he could be an honorary Gryffindor for this time being – they all walked forwards.

Sure enough, they emerged into the cellar. The door was open, indicating that whomever it was had gone upstairs. Fred grabbed Ginny and immediately ran back up to the secret underground passage. The other four pressed on, hearing feet upstairs.

When they emerged into the hall they could hear nothing. Fred came running out of the kitchen and Ginny from the study, both claiming that nobody was in those passages, so they split into threes again to instigate the other passage.

"Wild goose chase?" Hermione muttered darkly as they hurried through the fireplace, fed up.

It wasn't until they were halfway down that they realised it wasn't a wild goose chase.

Crouching down, trying to pull at what must be the other trapdoor to the cellar, was a figure dressed in black, hood of its cloak pulled over its head. It was tugging at the trapdoor, but realised it was locked just too late, as it looked up and saw Hermione, George and Ginny hurtling towards him. It got up and sprinted towards the other end of the passage, seemingly not realising that there was a woman with a wok standing on the other side.

BANG!

The deafening sound shook the foundations of the house and there were quick footsteps towards the conservatory from the hall: it sounded as if someone had just balsted the front doors into oblivion.

The figure crashed through the open entrance in the conservatory and there was a sickening smack as Minerva made her presence known with the wok. There was a clang as something, presumably the candlestick, was dropped and then a huge shuddering gasp as the perpetrator was recognised, followed by an unmasculine squeak from one of the men.

Hermione, Ginny and George, who had been rooted to the spot, suddenly regained function of their legs and sprinted the last few metres of the passage, popping out of the doorway like skittles in a bowling alley in time to see Albus Dumbledore himself holding the candlestick aloft. The clang had been from the wok hitting the fladstone floor.

Hermione tripped over the body on the floor and landed sprawled across Draco, who had fainted. The reason as to why became immediately apparent.

"Ah," said Dumbledore pleasantly, looking down a t the body of Lucius Malfoy, the candlestick still in his hand. "I see I arrived just in time."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

By the time they had moved Lucius' lifeless body from the conservatory, Dumbledore had cleared up the bloody mess from the study floor and the lounge wall, repaired the front doors, respectfully laid out the five other bodies in the hall and covered them with a sheet and produced a large bottle of fine Firewhisky. He then conjured up a comfy chintz armchair for himself in the study and they sat in silence, watching the fire.

After a while, Dumbledore's electric blue gaze, trained on the fire, raised and fixed itself on Hermione. "I must say you figured it out perfectly."

"I figured what out?" Hermione said in a very small voice.

Dumbledore laughed. "How he did it of course! He was in the house all along. That was why Severus was late; he was giving his final instructions. This whole evening was planned, even Mr Longbottom's unfortunate displacement from the Floo Network."

Fred muttered something that sounded like 'I knew his appearance couldn't be an accident."

Smiling pleasantly, Dumbledore continued. "There's another secret passage from the upstairs master bedroom to the cellar. When you were all seated in the dining room, Lucius here snuck down into the cellar and across the hall into the study, whereupon he entered this secret passage here." He gestured towards the painting. "He then waited for Mr Longbottom to come out of the fireplace upstairs and as you ran to investigate, he opened the portrait, took the rope and the lead pipe, hurried along the passage and throttled Salome. However, Lucius, being a clever chap, had figured that he too could make a little money from your secrets, so betrayed his accomplice and stuck him with the lead pipe, killing him as he went to fetch some protection for you."

"So Sn- _Professor_ Snape's death is the only unplanned death?" Ginny asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "I must say that Draco over there was going to be the final victim (Draco blanched) so he could use the murder of his son as a tool to blackmail you all, but unfortunately, he made himself heard too soon and you all chased him. But I get ahead of myself . What happened after you discovered Severus' body?"

For the first time, the group thought back to the events of the night. "We found Neville in the toilet," said Hermione eventually. "And then the lights went out."

Dumbledore inlined his head. "By now Lucius had retreated back into the secret passageway,"

George looked at the painting, the occupant still snoozing away, and realised that the killer had been standing a foot away from them all.

"When you all rushed out of the room to investigate Mr Longbottom's appearance, All Lucius had to do was sneak through the cellar via the trapdoor and switch off the electricity at the mains; none of you noticed him lean out of the cellar door to do so because you were all looking at Mr Longbottom at the top of the stairs. It worked to his advantage that you hadn't though tof taking note of the location of the fuse box, particularly with the storm. All he then had to do was sneak back upstairs and wait for you all to go down into the cellar, whereupon he ran into the kitchen and-."

"-stabbed the cook," Hermione finished in an undertone.

"Indeed." Dumbledore took a sip of Firewhisky. "After you'd all run int to find the cook stabbed and decided split up, he waited behind the painting in the study and overheard you lock the remaining weapons in the cupboard. That was a bit of an impedance, seeing as he would have to burst it open – you might have guessed that Alohomora will work nowhere in this house? - and claim the weapons again."

"Which is precisely what he did." Minerva swallowed, suddenly looking very old as opposed to the fairly young middle-aged woman she had appeared earlier in the evening.

Dumbledore nodded slowly and waved a hand towards the hall, where the six bodies were lying. "Yes. Whilst you were busy searching the ground floor, Lucius crept from his hiding place and smashed open the cupboard," he indicted the mess that had been a rather handsome cupboard, "and retrieved the weapons, backing Mr Longbottom into the lounge and shooting him through the chest, snapping his wand, which I am sad to say wouldn't have worked anyway. Even Lucius had to to use this to bust the cupboard open." He gestured to a large cigar box on the floor, a revelation that caused Fred to exclaim something about there being a spell on the house that prevented wands from being useable.

"But how did he get Neville here in the first lace?"

"Lucius knew some very serious magic Mrs Potter. This included various enchantments to alter the destination of a traveller without their knowledge. Mr Longbottom was doomed the moment he stepped into his fireplace at home. He only thought he'd fallen out of the wrong grate."

"Bastard." Draco had spoken for the first time since he'd discovered his father was behind it all. "Complete bastard!"

Dumbledore continued as if Draco had just sent a heavy stack of compliments his father's way. "Anyway, after you'd all hurried into the lounge to see the body, he simply hid in the cupboard in the comer, knowing that you'd all leave sooner or later. When you did he slipped back into the passage behind the fireplace. Once out of the conservatory, he murdered the butler and dragged the body out of sight down the passage, so he would have time to get back into the meat locker. What he didn't count on was you hearing him in the passage as he listened to your conversation in the study."

"And then we chased him!" Ginny stood. "He ran down the passageway but there's a trapdoor leading to the cellar, and he went down that."

Dumbledore's eyes were sparkling. "Yes. He didn't count on the trapdoor being locked in the other passage though, otherwise you would have been chasing him for quite some time. You chased him to your trap in the conservatory, and I think that was my entrance as well wasn't it?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes confusedly at her employer. "Albus, what were you doing here anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious? I came o save you all from being murdered by Lucius Malfoy!" Dumbledore chuckled, reached into the pocket of his robes and drew out a drawstring bag. He opened it and revealed it to be full of yellow boiled sweets. "Sherbet lemon?"

Everyone stared at him bemusedly. Only Albus Dumbledore would offer round some sherbet lemons at a serious time like this.

"I felt as if people close to me were in mortal peril." Dumbledore popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth. "I immediately Apparated to the driveway, blasted the doors open upon finding they had been locked and... well, you know the rest."

"How did you know where we were?" Fred silently pinched a sherbet lemon from the bag and gingerly placed it on his tongue.

Dumbledore laughed, although whether it was in regards to the question or to Fred's thievery they didn't know. "Isn't that obvious as well?"

Hermione gasped. "This is _your_ house?" She scrutinised the paining concealing the secret passage and discovered somewhat of a likeness between Dumbledore and the occupant. "We're in Godric's Hollow?"

"On the outskirts of the village yes," Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "This is the home my family used to live in. I now live here alone as my brother resides in the Hog's Head, and I have no need for either of the wings, but when I caught wind of Severus' plan I offered him the use of my house for its execution."

Minerva went whiter than white. "You mean," she croaked, "you _KNOW_?"

"About your bordello? Of course!" Dumbledore offered Fred another sherbet lemon as he inched towards the bag, looking hopeful. "And I know about your son and daughter, and about your secret business dealings and whatnot." He settled back in his chair and finished his Firewhisky.

"And you aren't going to report us?" Hermione licked her lips.

This time Dumbledore roared with laughter. "Of course I'm not! These things make people more interesting, although I must say I disapprove somewhat of extra-marital affairs," he shot a glance at Ginny and Hermione, who blushed, "but I'm not going to turn you in and humiliate you in the same way Severus would have done in a heartbeat."

"I don't understand," Hermione said. "Why was Snape doing this in the first place?"

"_Professor_ Snape was doing it because he was under orders from Lucius Malfoy. A little while ago, Lucius became aware of Severus' involvement in three deaths of several second year students at Hogwarts. Lucius decided that he could get a little extra cash from it, and blackmailed him furiously. But Severus, riddled with guilt, got to a point where he hadn't any more money and begged Lucius to reconsider the offer. Lucius decided that he could use Severus as a vehicle for his other dastardly blackmail schemes. However, Lucius wasn't happy that Severus was keeping some of the money for himself; that was why he killed him."

Everyone was trying to imagine Severus Snape on his knees, begging for forgiveness and to be released from a horrid blackmail scheme. It made them feel almost sorry for him.

"But why did Lucius kill everyone else? George asked, accepting a sherbet lemon upon insistence from his brother.

"Because murder is excellent blackmail," Hermione replied on Dumbledore's behalf. "If we are left in a locked house with a load of dead bodies, including the one of our host and supposed blackmailer, then it's something fantastic to hold over our heads, get us to pay more."

"Precisely," replied Dumbledore. "Lucius became even more greedy, and his ultimate plan was to force you to not only pay blackmail for your individual reasons but also the blackmail for keeping six murders quiet."

"Will we be exposed now?" Minerva inquired fearfully, staring wide-eyed at the six shrouded bodies outside the door.

There was a hearty chuckle and Dumbledore stood up. "Of course you aren't," he said kindly. "But I must say to Mrs Potter that she should tell Harry about the affair with Mr Longbottom at least. No doubt his untimely death will soften the blow somewhat."

Ginny looked dejected but determined.

Dumbledore surveyed the group. Draco was white, his blond hair tousled and damp with sweat, his suit rumpled and silk shirt stained. The twins looked worse for wear with dusty jackets; George had lost his tie. The women were all looking distinctly dishevelled, their buns drooping and falling out, Minerva had cobwebs all over her tartan dress and Ginny had a tear in her skirt. Everyone looked as if they needed to go home and take a hot bath, a sentiment which Dumbledore voiced.

Nodding in agreement, they all stood.

"Are you paying blackmail for anything Professor?" Ginny asked.

Dumbledore gave a mysterious smile. "Not anymore," he said wistfully, gazing down at Lucius' body. "But this man was threatening to expose the poker ring I run amongst the staff of Hogwarts."

Minerva squeaked and turned red.

"She's never forgiven me for beating her so spectacularly at a game of strip-poke one night after a little too much Firewhiskyr," Dumbledore whispered to Hermione and Ginny with a wink. Both women giggled.

And then everyone was laughing, despite the six bodies that were so nearby, despite the horrific events of the night. They laughed until their eyes streamed and their sides were splitting and they were doubled over. They were laughing so hard they didn't hear the doorbell until the Ministry officials who had been ringing it had blasted the door open and were standing in the hall.

"What's the meaning of this Dumbledore?" asked a portly official, brandishing his wand at the hysterical group. "Where's Lucius Malfoy? And are those _dead_ _bodies_?"

Dumbledore flung an arm around the official's shoulders, using the other to wipe tears of mirth from his face. "Come with me to the study gentlemen and I will explain everything. But if you want to know who killed Lucius Malfoy? It was me. In the conservatory. With the candlestick." He winked at Hermione, still laughing, and closed the study door.

The guests were finally allowed home after giving statements to the Ministry officials. Their secrets were still secret – to them and Dumbledore anyway – and they were bundled in their coats. Fred was examining thee six little figurines, still in the centre of the dining table. The last one had a doll's house prop candlestick next to it.

"Who could have found the time to do this?" Hermione gestured at the figures. "Lucius was too busy murdering people to have had the chance to do this without getting caught, and nobody's wands worked until Dumbledore got here."

Fred frowned. "Maybe it was something to do with Dumbledore. Who knows. It reminds me of that book we studied though, back at Hogwarts, in a Muggle Studies lesson. 'Ten Little Indians'. It's a Christie I think."

Hermione smiled and tucked her arm through his. "Well remembered." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Let's go."

The six of them walked out of the (again) newly repaired front doors, into the darkness. The rain had stopped, and there was now a hazy chill across the gravel driveway. The car that had brought them there was waiting patiently at the base of the porch steps. Dumbledore appeared in the doorway.

"Did you do the figurines?" Hermione asked as the driver pulled the car door open.

Dumbledore merely smiled, confirming her suspicions. "Sometimes, it's best to leave some questions unanswered."

The car pulled away from the house, leaving behind a night of horrors, dropping them off at the train station in time for the last train of the night. As they stood on the platform Ginny was steeling herself to tell Harry not only of the death of a friend but also the betrayal of a wife. Hermione was steeling herself to tell Ron of her three trysts with his own brother. Minerva was still looking as if she would have a heart attack at any moment but the pain of the night must have been miniscule in comparison to the pain Draco was suffering.

To turn up at a dinner party to find your former Head of House is manipulating you into paying copious amounts of money, only to find it was your own father all along? Hermione knew that the pain of Draco losing his favourite teacher and Head of House must be nothing to the pain of his own father essentially betraying his family.

The train pulled up with a screech and they all piled on, collapsing into their seats and drifting off before the train had even left the station, glad that this night was over and they could return to relative normality the following day.

Upon arrival in London, they piled into the Leaky Cauldron, intending to Apparate home from the privacy of the wizarding pub. Instead, they ended up at the bar, Tom pouring them each a drink. For a while nobody spoke and then Ginny raised her glass, making the toast they were all eager to make, albeit with a pang of extreme sadness.

"To Neville, the hero who put up a fight."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight – Epilogue – One Year Later**

* * *

Ginny was greeted by a flame-haired bundle as it flew down the stairs and into her arms. "Good morning Lily," she chuckled, kissing her daughter's tousled hair. She shot a glance at the memorial picture of Neville on the wall, smiled sadly, and joined her daughter at the table, where she was bobbing in her seat.

The clatter of the letterbox alerted the youngest Potter to the arrival of her Hogwarts letter and she shrieked with excitement, running to fetch it. There was a tearing sound from the hall and Lily re-emerged into, the letter in one hand, the shredded envelope in the other.

"We said we'd wait for your father," Ginny scolded as she heard Harry pad downstairs, Albus in front of him and James bring up the rear.

It had been a year since night of Neville's murder. Ginny had come home and admitted to her husband there and then that she'd had an affair. Harry had gathered her in his arms, kissing her and telling her he was sorry, he'd had an affair too and he'd known about Neville. They'd wept well into the night as they mourned the loss of their friend. It had also been a year since Ginny had neglected to tell Harry about Lily and Albus' true parentage.

Like Dumbledore had said; there are some questions which must remain unanswered.

* * *

In Devon, it was a lazy morning. Rose was reading as usual, the tassel of her bookmark in danger of dipping into the milk in her cereal bowl. Hermione reached over and plucked it out of the danger zone.

Hugo arrived, his bag behind him. His Hogwarts letter was lying on his plate on top of his toast. Hermione's brains had for once deserted her, and the action of placing it on her son's plate meant that the toast had gotten a little soggy, as had the letter. Nevertheless Hugo's eyes lit up as he ripped it open.

Gazing fondly at her son, Hermione heard a knock at the door. Sliding out from her place, she ran a hand over her daughter's hair, searching through the pot to find the back door key.

The door opened to reveal Ron, hands in pockets, slight smile on his face. "They ready?" he asked, gesturing to the children, who immediately got up, Hugo with his letter and toast clutched in his hand, to get their bags. "I see Hugo got his letter," Ron added superfluously.

Despite now separated, Hermione liked to think she had a fairly good relationship with her ex-husband. He'd been bitter at first – understandable, since it was his brother with whom she had cheated – but had eventually calmed down, and still saw his children very frequently. Besides, he himself now had a new girlfriend, and had accepted that Fred had taken his place in Hermione's life.

"Have fun yo two, I'll see you on Monday!" Hermione waved her children and their father off, before closing the door and looking forward to a quiet weekend with Fred.

* * *

In a quiet graveyard int the English countryside, six people gathered at the gate. They moved in a precession, not speaking, until they reached a gravestone.

Ginny let out a sob and Hermione squeezed her shoulders. Draco stepped forwards and laid down his bouquet of lilies, the others soon following suit. After a few moments of reflection, the six moved off again, Ginny taking one last look at the gravestone:

'_Neville Longbottom 1980-2011_

_Taken so cruelly_

_Forever in our memories as a dedicated friend, husband and father_

_'The hero who put up a fight_'

* * *

**FIN**

* * *

Hope you enjoyed my first foray into the world of murder/mystery. I must admit that even though it was a product of extreme exam stress, I did enjoy writing it, so there may be more. I would really love some reviews :)

**North_Shadow**


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